Ink Me Up

This seems to be the week of throwing open the doors to my closets and inviting all you folks who read this blog to come right on in and see what's inside. So consider yourselves warned right up front on this post ... I'm going to reveal something else about myself that many of you don't know. While this revelation isn't as intense as my depression confession ... oh, the poet inside of me likes the way those words sound together ... it will, however, come as a shock to some of you.

When my son Matthew turned 16, he wanted one thing for his birthday and only one thing ... he wanted me to get a tattoo with him. Now let me say that never in my life had I wanted a tattoo, never ever even considered getting one even during my rough and rowdy high school and college days. So it was easy for me to tell Matt no for several months. I even offered to buy him almost anything he wanted for his birthday, but nothing else would do. He wanted nothing but to get a tattoo with his gray-haired mom. When a dear friend asked me if I realized how awesome it was that I had a son who wanted us to have tattoos, matching tattoos, marks on our bodies that would forever be a reminder of the strong relationship we share ... that's when I agreed to get inked with my son. And it's a day I will always remember, probably more so than Matt since he fainted at the first touch of the needle.

Needless to say when my middle kiddo Brad and my youngest Meghann began to approach their 16th birthdays, they started clamoring to have tattoos with me as well. So ... I have three tattoos ... each one matches the corresponding kiddo's tattoo who chose the design. I have an ichthus on my right ankle for Matt, a dove on my left ankle for Meghann, and the head of Jesus with the crown of thorns with a cross for the background on my left arm for Brad.

For years I've said that when all the kids were grown and out on their own, I would get a tattoo on my right arm ... one that I chose, one that had significant meaning to me. I kept putting it off because I wasn't sure what I wanted the design to be, and I knew that I would know when the time was right and what the right design was. And then I was diagnosed with diabetes and the doctors said no tattoo because of the difficulties that I have with healing. But last week, my doctor said that I could go get inked, and I've known since December what the design will be. So I'm thinking that after Meg's wedding, I'll be paying a visit to my favorite tattoo man.

Today is Good Friday, and all day I've been thinking about Jesus, the cross He carried, the wounds He suffered, the price He paid for my sin. All day I've been thinking about the marks left on His body from the nails that pierced His wrists and His feet. All day I've been thinking about what it means to live for Him, to follow His calling, to give Him my all, to be willing to die for Him.

On this day, Father, this day when the world remembers the death of Your beloved Son, my strongest wish, my all-consuming desire is that I bear on my body the marks of Jesus. I pray that my heart is forever tattooed with not only His name but with His love, His grace, His compassion and His mercy as well. Ink me up, God, ink me up.